


The Last Goodbye

by Teese



Category: Ylvis
Genre: Death, M/M, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 10:08:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3606237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teese/pseuds/Teese
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The title says it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> I just felt like writing something short and sad today, probably because I'm going to see the dentist later on. Sorry.

Bård didn’t know what had happened. They had been casually driving down the same road they had driven thousands upon thousands of times before, and they had been singing along to some shitty pop song on the radio, laughing and having fun like always. The next thing he knew was total blackness and then crawling out of the old Mercedes and into the night, only illuminated by the stars and the moon above, and he felt his bones ache and something warm and thick was trickling down his face - blood.

“Calle?” he yelled and looked around. Crawling around the car and to the driver’s side, he realised that his friend lay limp on the ground next to him, his lower body crushed under the car. There was blood everywhere and he lay in an unnatural position with his back twisted, and he was bleeding from a deep gash to the head.

“No,” he whispered and felt his throat become too tight and he was shivering all over his body. He had to pull himself with all his might to get to him, and he gently touched his arm and shook him. “Please wake up,” he pleaded and yet all he could feel was his buddy’s abnormally cold skin and he closed his eyes and half-prayed to some higher power that this wasn’t happening, that he was dreaming and would wake up any moment. “Calle, wake up,” he pleaded instead and shook him even more violently, though he realised it probably wasn’t a clever thing to do and had to think hard for a moment.

He dialled the emergency number on his phone and was profoundly thankful that it had survived the impact of the crash.

“112. What is your emergency?”

“I-I’ve been in a car crash and my friend he’s… he’s unconscious. He won’t wake up.”

Bård attempted to explain where they were, but his head wasn’t working properly and he was slurring his words, a probable sign that he had a concussion. The woman managed to locate their whereabouts and would send an ambulance, but it would take them perhaps fifteen minutes to get there, and Bård had sobbed and felt terrified. He held onto Calle’s lifeless body and tears were streaming down his face, but he had managed to check his pulse and though weak, it was still present.

“Don’t die on me, you fucker,” he scolded him mildly. Five minutes had passed and Bård did what he could to keep him warm, holding the slender torso in his arms.

“…Bård?” he suddenly heard a familiar voice ask, though it was hoarse and too quiet.

“You’re awake,” he whispered and heaved a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived and he panicked that he would lose him again. “Don’t close your eyes, okay? I need you to stay awake for me. The ambulance is on its way.”

He looked down into those icy blue orbs and felt his heart shatter again and again. Calle looked at him with a dead calm look to his face, and he seemed at peace, something that freaked Bård out even more.

“Bård,” he whispered and his voice was comforting, as if Bård was the badly injured one. “Look at me.”

Their eyes locked and Bård couldn’t fight the tears any longer, sobbing hard and long before Calle whispered something, something that had him go cold and pale: “my body is shattered. I can’t feel my legs.”

“It’ll be okay once the ambulance gets here... just don’t fall asleep. Don’t leave me.”

The blonde man coughed and shook violently in his arms, and drops of blood trickled out of his mouth and Bård wanted to scream and shout and yet he was unable to do anything but hold onto his friend for dear life, as if his grip was the only thing keeping him alive. “Calle,” he whispered and the word fell like a prayer from his lips.

“There’s one thing I’ve always… always wanted to tell you,” Calle said and he moved his hand to Bård’s. It had taken all his might to do so, and he felt completely drained of life. “I never had the guts to tell you this, Bård, but I… I love you, and I always have loved you,” he wheezed, followed by another coughing fit. The younger man sobbed aloud now, no longer seeing a point in keeping quiet. “I love you too, you big dork,” he whispered back and found a misplaced smile on the blonde’s face. His grip on Bård’s hand tightened for a split second before it went completely limp, and his head rolled back, his mouth slightly open.

The light of his eyes went out like a candle.

Bård let out a furious yet broken scream then, and he hugged the wretched body closer to him and wished he could have gone instead, wished he could have gone with, and he leant down and gently brushed his lips against Calle’s. The taste of blood was overwhelming, yet he tasted something else there too – cigarettes and honey – and he cried bitterly and felt his very soul crumple away.

Only then could he hear an ambulance in the distance.

He wished it hadn’t come.


End file.
